


A Day in the Life Of Quincy

by Carrie (kikiduck), kikiduck



Category: Backstreet Boys
Genre: Cats, Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-04-26
Updated: 2009-04-26
Packaged: 2017-10-02 08:25:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kikiduck/pseuds/Carrie, https://archiveofourown.org/users/kikiduck/pseuds/kikiduck
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kevin's cat Quincy narrates a day in his life as he spends a traumatic evening with Tyk the little rat dog, waits patiently for Kevin's empty yogurt containers and reclaims his rightful place on Kevin's pillow.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Day in the Life Of Quincy

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written way back in the days of Millennium as BSB humor fic.

  
I slowly opened my eyes and blinked four times. I counted them. One, two, three four. Yes. There didn't appear anything of interest going on around me. All I could see were blurry figures. After several more blinks, my vision cleared and I realized that I was on the dining room table. It was dark, cold and hard. Before I had fallen asleep I had been lying in the sun. The sun was now gone. Time moves too quickly. Before you can get a decent catnap in, the sun moves.

I climbed to my feet and stretched. Time to go find a snack.

"Hey there... what do ya think you're doin'?"

I turned toward the voice. Oh. It was merely my human.

"Get off there. You know you're not supposed to be on the table."

The next thing I knew, his rather large hand connected with my rib cage and I was sent to the floor rather unceremoniously.

"Mrrrrrrrrrrrrrraaaa!" I expressed my displeasure - quite eloquently, I thought. That one howl had expressed both the physical and emotional pain that I felt at being shoved aside so cruelly. But, since I was a cat, I merely tucked the moment into my memory bank for future snubbing and moved on.

Kevin - my human - was in the kitchen rummaging through the refrigerator. I stepped up to the door and stuck my paw through the small crack on the side, feeling for tidbits that might be of interest to me. Too late, I felt my claws sink into something. I hoped it was the block of cheese.

Kevin yelped.

It wasn't the cheese.

"Now... what did you go and do that for?" Kevin was staring at his hand, which had a small drop of blood forming.

Lucky him. If I had been really hungry, I could have torn his entire arm to shreds and he wouldn't have been able to do a thing. We cats are like that. Wild vicious beasts. Who need at least twenty hours of sleep to function properly. That doesn't give us much time to be wild and vicious.

That's the good thing about my human. He needs just as much sleep as I do.

"Guess what." Kevin had - could it be! A yogurt carton! I was so happy I jumped up onto the counter, hoping he would let me have the foil top. There are few things I love more in this world than yogurt.

"Get down, cat." Kevin knocked me to the floor again. Since I am quite graceful, I managed to land on my feet - although a less agile cat would have hit the floor with an embarrassing THUMP. To show my offense, I stuck my tail straight into the air - and have a mentioned I have a extremely good-looking tail - and marched into the living room. I would come back for the yogurt carton later. It was strawberry yogurt, my favorite.

The sunshine had moved to the front window. I gracefully leapt onto the sill and prepared to resume my nap.

The low hum of a car motor interrupted me before I had even started. I looked out the window to see an expensive yellow car sitting in the driveway. That was the kind of car I could afford to be seen sleeping on the hood of. I might have even tried it, if I ever went outside. I don't usually go outside - fresh air makes my fur frizz. And when I spend at least two hours a day licking myself, I prefer not to frizz.

Suddenly, all my senses were on alert. This was not a friendly visitor. This was - Tyk. And his human, that obnoxious man who was always kicking me and stepping on my tail and rubbing my fur the wrong way. On purpose.

I glanced around frantically for a hiding place. The couch! It was black - I would blend in! I jumped across the living room, almost making a perfect landing on the back of the couch. My claws dug into the leather as I pulled myself on top and down the other side. Kevin would never notice the little holes.

The doorbell rang. Four times in succession. Brian must have been on a sugar rush. I scrunched down and tried to blend into the cushion.

"Now, now, now." Kevin came in from the kitchen, his yogurt still in hand. "Hold your horses, I'm comin'."

"Hello, Kevin!" Brian announced when Kevin opened the door.

"Hmmmt." Kevin said around his spoon of yogurt.

"Y'all are eatin' mold again, I see." Brian commented.

"Itth..." Kevin took the spoon out of his mouth. Bright boy. I couldn't understand a word of what he was saying before.

"It's not mold, Brian. It's live cultures."

"It's mold." Brian stopped and stared at me. "Hey - Kevin... your couch has got eyes."

Mentally, I cursed myself. How could I have forgotten! I needed to close my eyes! They were green. The couch was black! They would stand out!

"Really?" Kevin stared as well. I have to admit - even though he is my human and I do love him when he scratches my head, sometimes the man is not too bright. "Nah - that's just Quincy!" Kevin was pleased that he had figured this out. "Hey - Quincy - look! Your cousin Tyk is here!"

Tyk was not my cousin. I was a cat. An extremely well bred, good looking cat, even if my papers had been lost at birth and I was forced to live on the streets. Tyk. Well, first off, Tyk claimed to be a dog, although personally I thought he looked more like a rat. A neurotic rat. And he insisted on yapping at least two hundred yaps a minute. We were not related.

On the other hand - Brian talked all the time and looked like a neurotic rat as well. And he was related to Kevin. I guess there's no accounting for genes. Still - I was convinced that I was NOT related to Tyk, no matter what my human might say. I had to allow for error. This was the same man who had accidentally locked me in the bathroom last Christmas when his mother came to visit. I had been in there for almost six hours when he heard me shredding the shower curtain and came to rescue me. He put me in the garage.

I had forgotten about that.

"Y'all ready for some bowling!" Brian asked. It was then that I noticed the small bag at his side. It was round. It looked hard. It looked painful. At any moment I expected Brian to throw it at me, just to laugh at my pain. He enjoyed my pain. I could tell.

"Yep." Kevin set his yogurt on the coffee table. I saw my chance.

"C'mon, Tyk!" Brian snapped his fingers at his rat in a bandanna. Good riddance. The dog was going bowling with them. At least I could finish my nap.

"Hey." Kevin pointed his spoon at Brian. "Ya can't take the dog withya."

"Why?"

"Cause dogs don't go bowling, see?"

"Tyk does." Brian said confidently.

"No he don't." Kevin set the spoon next to the yogurt. I watched out of one eye, waiting for the moment the yogurt was unguarded and I could move in for the kill, so to speak.

"Well - what am I supposed to do with him?" Brian picked up the little rat and kissed his bony little head. I cringed, my appetite for the yogurt suddenly gone.

"Leave him here." Kevin shrugged. "Quincy's mature. He'll take care of him."

"That's what Mama always said about you." Brian protested. "And you used to beat me up!"

"It was a mature beating." Kevin corrected.

"All right." Brian set the dog back on the floor. My lip curled in disgust. So much for a nap.

"Y'all be nice to Tyk while we're gone." Kevin shook his finger in my face. I considered leaping for it and shredding it to pieces, but refrained. I was tired. I wanted my yogurt. I hadn't had my required amount of dairy that day.

"See ya guys later!" Kevin waved as they went out the door. "Be good now! We'll be back by nine, okay, Quincy?"

I hated how he talked to me like I was a small child.

The door closed.

I jumped to my feet and leapt for the yogurt. It was missing. Frantically I looked around the room. Had it fallen under the table? Then I saw it.

Tyk was trotting down the hallway, MY yogurt carton in his mouth. I sprang after him, intent on wrestling him to the ground. After all, I did weigh ten pounds more than him. I would free the yogurt carton, then kill and eat Tyk.

I stopped. This wasn't' a good idea. Kevin wouldn't let me eat chicken because I could choke on the bones. Tyk's bones were the same size as a chicken's. I didn't intend to use up one of my lives on a Chihuahua. I would just have to maim him severely.

I moved in from the rear. Tyk heard me. My claws must have been extended. I hate wood floors. Apparently Kevin likes wood. He doesn't have any carpet in the entire house. If you ask me, carpet is safer. He keeps slipping when he wears socks. Ever had a one hundred eighty pound man fall on top of you? It hurts. I had to sleep for two days after that escapade. I slept on his pillow, just to prove my point.

Tyk jumped away from me, his nails clattering on the floor. Then he started yapping. Now - I don't know what good this was going to do. No one was home to come rescue him. He could yap until the cows came home and I was still going to get my yogurt carton.

I swatted at his face. The yogurt carton fell to the floor. I moved it to take it and enjoy my dinner when Tyk snapped. The next thing I knew, a three pound rat was attached to my head, biting for all he was worth.

When I came to, Kevin was staring at me. I'm convinced the man was a cat in another life. Very catlike eyes. He looked confused - which ruined the illusion of catness. Cats are never confused.

"What are you doing?" Kevin asked.

I attempted my best pitiful I'm a hurt little kitty look. You can never have enough sympathy. We cats soak up sympathy. Sometimes I can make Kevin feel sorry enough for me that he'll let me sleep on his bed. My favorite place is on his pillow, right above his head. Kevin has a lot of hair. Quite cozy.

"Are you bleeding?" Kevin stared at his hand. Apparently Tyk had drawn blood. I had a high pain threshold. I hadn't noticed.

"What happened?" Kevin picked me up. I smiled to myself. Sympathy was a good thing, even if it was rather painful being slung over one shoulder like a sweater.

"Brian!" Kevin marched into the living room and pointed at the little rat. Tyk, that is. I keep forgetting, there's two of them. "Your dog attacked Quincy!"

"Oh no, he didn't!" Brian defended. "Tyk is not a violent animal!"

Tyk looked up from his seat on the couch, the yogurt carton still next to him. It was then that I noticed his bandanna matched Brian's shirt. I felt a hairball rise in my throat. If I hadn't been playing an invalid, I would have attacked Tyk right then and there. And I would have shown no mercy.

"What does he have there?" Kevin leaned over to look at Tyk. Apparently he has a one track mind, because he forgot I was on his shoulder and let go. I felt myself slipping and dug my claws in.

To his shoulder.

"Hey!" Kevin grabbed me and held me out at arms length. "Cut that out now!"

He turned back to his cousin. "Brian. He took Quincy's yogurt!"

Darn right he did!

"And how was he supposed to know it was Quincy's?" Brian demanded.

"Cause Quincy always gets my yogurt." Kevin announced.

Darn right again! I had my human trained well.

"How could he know!" Brian picked up Tyk, leaving the yogurt on the couch. Like I would touch it now, with dog spit all over it. I hissed at Tyk, just to make a point.

"Ow!"

I forgot, my claws voluntarily extend when I hiss.

"Poor Quincy." Kevin moved into the kitchen. "Let's see here... do you want some tuna fish?"

I gave him my best, 'I'm dying here, but I'll try to eat a little just for you' face.

"Here we go." Kevin set me on the counter. "Let me open that for you, okay?"

I settled myself on the counter and waited for my tuna fish.

"I think you're blowing this way out of proportion." Brian announced, following Kevin into the kitchen.

"You stay away from my poor cat." Kevin pointed the can opener at his cousin.

"I'm not gonna touch your dumb cat." Brian glared.

I drew myself up to my full fourteen inches. I was not dumb. I was a highly intelligent creature. All cats are.

"There we are." Kevin set the plate of tuna in front of me. "Would you like mayo with it?"

I did, but wasn't sure exactly how to convey this message, so I ate my tuna dry.

"Well..." Brian was beginning to look worried. Apparently he found Kevin's relationship with me to be either strange, sickening or both. All humans have that relationship with their cats. It just shows how much control we have over them.

"I think we'all have to get goin' now." Brian gave us a rather sour smile. "See ya later, Kevin."

"Okay." Kevin swiped some tuna from my plate. If my mouth hadn't been full, I would have protested.

"Tyk!" Brian called. "We are gonna leave now! C'mere!"

It was about time. After I finished my tuna, I had to sleep off the stress of my evening.

"Well, now." Kevin announced after his cousin and Tyk had left. "Wouldja look at that, Quincy? It's already nine fifteen."

I continued to eat. After all, I was a cat, I couldn't tell time.

"Time for bed." Kevin announced. "I got to get tomorrow at eight and I need a full twelve hours sleep." He paused. "Now, that don't add up..."

I finished my tuna and started to wash my face, a ritual I go through several times a day. Clean faces are very important. Especially for us good looking cats. I tried to subtly glance at myself in the microwave door. My hair was standing on end. No wonder Kevin had been worried! That dog saliva had acted like gel and now I looked like a freak. Or at least like I had mange.

"Are ya coming, Quincy?" Kevin asked from the bedroom door.

I pretended to think about it, then shot through the door just as he was about to close it.

"Weird..." Kevin mumbled.

I took my usual seat on his pillow and prepared to go to sleep for the evening.

"I think not." Kevin put his hands on his hips. "That is my pillow."

I casually stretched out, extending the claws on my left front paw.

"You don't scare me." Kevin shook his head. He reached over and swatted at my side. "C'mon, shoo. You're down at the end. Ya think I want fleas or somethin'?" What was he talking about? I didn't have fleas!

Just to show that I was being agreeable, I slowly stood up and began to move to the end of the bed, pausing to take a long, leisurely stretch. To my great surprise, Kevin swatted me one on the butt. I was so shocked I flew halfway across the room, almost smashing into the dresser.

"Get a move on, cat." Kevin announced.

I stood up and tried to gather my injured pride around me once again. Being smacked in the butt was a serious pride issue. To show that I was hurt, I turned my back to the bed and stared at the wall.

"What'cha lookin' at?" Kevin didn't get it. I continued to ignore him.

The light turned off. I knew what I had to do. I turned around to face the bed.

A few moments later, my plan had succeeded. Kevin's voice came from the darkness. "Cut that out. You look freaky."

I blinked once.

"Stop it!" Kevin switched the light back on. "I can't sleep with ya staring at me!"

I settled down on the floor and tucked my front paws under my chest, all the while, still staring at Kevin.

"I'm gonna ignore you." Kevin switched the light back off and rolled over so he couldn't see me.

My plan was accomplished. In ten minutes, he would be out like a light and I could reclaim my throne, my resting place, my pillow.

And in the morning, we would have yogurt.  



End file.
